Wheee...!

I am free of the scourge that is Soc Class.

Oh, and btw, Naddy is idiot. Ha! So there.

Azai is idiot.

Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot. Azai is idiot.

And Azai Backside Smelly.

Ha!

Hmph.

It's about time.

Argh. There's 7 minutes more to a dumb class. I have to leave in about 30 seconds. Irritating. Bleargh. Stupid shitty. Ah well. Time go to I suppose.

*prances off into oblivion*

Quotable Quote.

Kabby and I, on a certain person, MEOW.

Kabby: It's not me! MEOW spelt your name wrongly.

Me: MEOW is a biatch.

Kabby: No, she's nice.

Me: But she can't spell my name properly!

Kabby: That's because she's stupid.

-.-"

I could.

I could say that I'm content.

I could say that I'm satisfied.

I could say that I'm happy.

I could say that peace is in the air.

I could say a lot of things.

But I'd be lying.

So I'll say this.

I'll say that strife is rife.

I'll say that I'm at an end.

I'll say that peace is shattered.

I'll say that I'm speechless.

Ironic. I'm speechless but I'm still typing words out. This isn't a good place to speak. Too many eyes, too many ears. Too much room for misinterpretation. But as a legal executive, shouldn't it be my place to be precise?

Narrow. Unlit. Dank. Dangerous. Precipitous.

Acceptance is Strength?

Does acceptance of vulnerability equate to strength?

If it does, is the strength then compromised because thinking of abovementioned vulnerability brings one to tears?

I've been trying not to look at my biggest fear in the face for a long time. God, I didn't even know when I've had this instinctive fear inbuilt in me.

I only realised it was there with the aid of DramaTec, and even then, I was afraid of it.

My grandfather comments that my mother's children (essentially my siblings and I) are extremely defensive when it comes to the topic of their mother.

Can I afford to do any less?

It was a nightmare when Mum fell sick. When she'd get so pale and her lips would be absolutely white. When the lines start forming under her eyes and it's a struggle for her to even speak to us. When her hands would tremble holding a glass of water? When her stomach wreaks havoc and she curls up into a ball of pain? When she cries (and she normally doesn't cry at all) because it's too painful? When she pukes her guts out, and then some, even though she hasn't eaten a grain of rice? When she throws up again after taking a single bite of bread? Or worst yet, when the pain is so intense, she passes out in your arms? And as that happens, a single tear flows down her cheek.

Just typing this and my eyes are filled with tears. You'd think that I'm some sort of weakling.

But good God that's the anchor of my life you're talking about. That's the woman who endured nine months of a distended belly to give life to me. That's the woman who takes care of me.

To lose someone like that scares me to death. And Shikin, that's how I break down so easily when it comes to topics about Mum.

And so I accept the fact that losing Mum is the biggest fear of my life. I never want to see that day come, because when it does, I think I will go mad.

Hate Hate Hate.

I hate to forget. I absolutely detest the feeling of remembering something that you've forgot only when it's too late.

Why is it I have to have such a pathetic memory function? I tell myself so many times to do something, and then promptly forget about it ten minutes later. It's not that I'm not prioritising my life properly, but somehow, it just bloody slips my mind.

You'd think that I have some form of dementia or something. I even forget people's names. Corey for example. For the entire duration of Choir practice and Mass, I could not recall his name no matter how hard I tried. The only name that came to mind was Joel. And that's as far from his name as I can get. It's not that I mean to forget his name, it's just that in that space of time, his name just did not come to mind.

God, did I inherit something from Grandma? It's not supposed to manifest so early right? I hope I didn't inherit none of that.

Good Deeds.

Funny how doing a good deed makes you feel satisfied with yourself. You feel uplifted, for one. And suddenly, you think that doing good deeds should be an everyday thing. It makes you feel good about yourself, and you feel happier, almost lighter.

We helped a Japanese man find his hotel. He was quite puzzled by our EzLink machines. Well frankly, who wouldn't be? The poor man was trying to get to Geylang. Heck, even we weren't too sure which stop to alight at. So we called 100 to get the hotel's phone number, and the receptionist said to alight at Aljunied Station. He also gave me a long list of directions, which we obviously lost track of.

It was then decided (with some persuasion) that he would be accompanied all the way to his hotel. He wanted to take a cab, but the poor man only had hundred dollar notes in his wallet. Sheesh. Talk about no small change. Obviously, his EzLink card was paid by us too.

Along the way, I decided to be friendly, and kaypoh I might add, and asked him about himself. Turns out he...

1. is a student at NUS
2. is doing arts and social science
3. is called Tatsushi
4. is 22
5. reads better than he speaks.

Well, when we finally reached the hotel (after much walking around, and Tatsushi with his huge luggage somemore), he asked for our number, which we provided.

He said he wanted to call us, so that he could give us some "Japanese tiddies".

My eyes nearly popped out.

Then he said again.."you like, giddies?"

Then I thought if he was mad.

Then I realised. He wanted to give Jap Goodies. Lolx.

Gee Whiz...

Funny. I seem to be getting more emotional these days.

Today during Dramatec training, there was a little exercise in emotion. When it came to crying, I shocked myself by doing so within seconds of the topic.

Funnier, the ones who ended up crying by the end of the scenario were mostly the males. Well, three guys (including me) and one girl were clearly crying. What ever happened to the notion of girls being more in touch with their emotions?

Funny how the world works sometimes.

Half Blood Prince.

One subplot too many. Interweaving, unresolving.

Perhaps waiting for the story to tell the tale, but yet, weakening the present one that much with its presence.

Well, someone died. As usual.

My personal theory was right. No, I'm not spilling.

Did that person have to die? It was absolutely necessary. But frankly, I wonder how the little children will take it. All the darkness and all the dying. I mean, from the brightness in book 1, to what I have just finished reading?

She's turning to the dark side I tell you.

Wits End.

MLOCT has me stumped.

Sociology has me stumped.

Accounts has me stumped.

Deadlines rear their ugly head.

Whirlwind of a week.

Weekdays passed in a haze of work. Term break? A period of time in which we are tested to see if we will break.

I remember going to school almost everyday. I remember doing MLOCT Proj 1. I remember finding out about F&BP for Civil Pro to be handed in on Tuesday. I recall finding out about giving a little lecture on Character on Tuesday.

I recall going to school on Wednesday for Sociology Project. And then after that, staying on in the library, poring over books, finding the best and easiest way to help the children with their acting. I remember freezing in the library for hours. I remember getting a headache from trying to cram everything in at the same time. I remember leaving for choir practice straight after that. I remember being late. I remember not having eaten the whole day. I remember having dinner at 2235, with the night air for company.

I remember thursday's interview with Ms Magdalene. I remember going to school at 1030 for Dramatec. I remember Dramatec lasting until 7pm. I remember my heart breaking once more. I remember going for dinner to bond with all the children who were present.

I remember reaching home at around 2330. I remember taking a hurried shower. I remember chatting online with friends to stay awake, while at the same time agonizing over my powerpoint slides for the lecture that was looming.

I remember finishing my lecture slides at 0115. I remember finally going to sleep at 0200.

I remember jerking awake at 1030 after having restless nightmares of a lecture gone wrong, and the freshies laughing at me. I remember a nightmare of lecturing to an empty theatre. I remember rushing to school. I remember a long day of dramatec. Emotions, space covering, character, "If you get what I mean".

I remember seeing Suat Ling off for the last time before going to dinner. I remember the exhaustion at 1930, when Dramatec finally ended its workshop. I remember arriving at pasir ris at 2030. I remember looking and feeling like hell. I remember having to turn down Dear's dad because I didn't want to be a wet blanket and yawn in their faces. I remember Dear not knowing that, because she wouldn't be able to anyway.

I remember leaving promptly so I could go home to continue my project work. I do not remember what time I fell asleep.

And here we are now. Sunday morning. 1202. What did I do today? I went to Tan Tock Seng for a dental appointment. I went to Harvey Norman to check out prices for my project. I missed project meeting. I went to another project meeting. I had a caller hang up on me. I stayed on to complete project until 5pm. I went to Harvey Norman Parkway Parade to continue checking out prices and products. I went to Best Denki to try my luck.

Just remembering, is exhausting.

Silence.

In the silence of the soul, peace resides.
In the silence of the soul, comfort is sought.
In the silence of the soul, love is found.

In the silence, is a void.
In the silence, tears collect, unheeded, unknown.
In the silence, loneliness reigns.

*screams*

Forgiven not Forgotten.

I thought I'd buried it. I thought I'd accepted what it meant, and could deal with it.

I was wrong.

A group of Dramatec members were acting out a scene from Devdas, with the help of Nad, who reprised her role as Kaushalya, Devdas's mother. It was the scene where Dev finally gets chased out of the house, but not before receiving a stinging slap in the face.

That scene was the scene that affected me most in the entire play. And I thought that, being in the audience would be fine. I felt that I would not be so deeply affected again.

The instant Kaushalya (it clearly wasn't Nad anymore) stepped into the scene, my blood chilled. I could see the terrible anger and anguish lying latent there. In that instant, I knew she felt as horrible as I did. I (Devdas) saw my mother standing there before me, in the grips of the worst betrayal of her life; her son finally succumbing to greed and wanting the family money.

I watched as Kaushalya stepped up to Fadzly (who played Dev), inexorable as Death, with something that resembled everlasting regret. I watched as Kaushalya slapped the face of her beloved son. I watched as she yelled the words that did and still cuts deeply into Devdas' heart. Into my heart.

And the tears came unbidding. And Melvyn/Devdas looked on as he seemingly relived his past.

And thus did Devdas lower his head unto his shaking hands, and wept once more he did.

It's been a while.

I can't do it in lyrical prose, neither can I do it with fancy words.

What I can do, is this.

Dear, I love you. It's been a month since we've begun on this journey together. It's truthfully only been a very short period of time. And I acknowledge that. But I've been happy. And I've not been happy for a long time. Until of course, you came along. And now I'm happy. I am really really happy. I don't know how else to describe how I feel.

But I love you anyway.



My dreams came true when I found you.
If you could see what I see
you're the answer to my prayers.
And if you, could feel the tenderness I feel
You would know, it would be clear.
You're the angel that brought me here.

Quotable Quote.

An air stewardess from the movie Soul Plane on getting the best orgasms.

"Y'ain't experienced an orgasm until you've had one while on descent."

A toilet cleaner, on a couple having sex.

"Y'need less space than this brother! Remember, superman changed in a phone booth."

A gay steward, on a pilot in uniform.

"I like him better out of his uniform!!"

I ain't stoppin' for no motherfu****!!

Lol. That came straight out of a movie called Soul Plane. Wait. I'm getting far too much ahead of myself.

On Saturday, we celebrated (belatedly) Kishy's birthday. We met in the afternoon at 2pm perhaps? Kit, Kish, Daph, Me, and most of all, SUAT LING!! Wheee... my friend from Malaysia finally decides to drop her ass right back where it belongs. Good ol' Singapore.

We had dinner at NYDC after some shoppin' around. Of course, I was window shopping all by my lonely self. Kit and Suat were busy making their own purchases, and Daph and Kish just do not function that way.

By dinner, we had Amos and Shao Jun and Reena with us as well. So there were, erm...8 of us! That's right.

A unanimous decision was made to pop down to Fisherman's Village over at Pasir Ris Beach Park for a little drink. *snorts* Little, yeah right. If that was little then I'm a motherfuc***. Lol. And I'm not. So there.

Apologies for the appearance of too many motherf*****. It's the movies I'm watching I tell you.

I had 1 shot of tequila, and a couple of cups of Vodka Lime/Sprite, and this drink called Strobe. Predictably, I got quite high. But definitely not drunk, because I was still in control of myself.

Kishy, the dear birthday boy, decided to go wild. He had 3 shots of tequila, coupled with the same drinks we had. I think Kit, Suat and Reena had 1 or 2 shots? Not too sure. My memory is a little vague on that score.

But yes. They got high. In Kishy's case, I will say that he was drunk. Of course, it was probably just the alcohol relaxing his tongue, but all of a sudden, he was rude. Downright rude. He interrupted conversations, made others "shut up" while he basically babbled like a leaky tap. Of course, I suppose everyone will still love you Kishy, despite the display of the most disgusting behaviour ever. Suat and Reena were probably having fun. Lol.

Kishy insisted that I should lose control of myself. That I was too rigid for my own good.

Here's my answer. Of course I wanted to lose control of myself. But if I did, and proceeded to make a fool of myself, then who is going to take care of things? Do I expect Shao Jun or Amos or worse, Daphnie to be taking care of us all? Impossible.

Finally!

Something that works.

And is pretty nice too.

Wheee...

Helpp.

How do I solve the problem with my skin? Anyone???

Please??

Sorry!

Stupid new blogskin seems to be facing some problems. I'm trying my darndest to fix it(meaning I scratch my head really hard and stare at the screen).

I'll try to add in the damn shoutbox asap too. So everyone can abuse me on how bad I've done.

Masochism does have its kicks.

Something New.

The guy over to the right..kinda looks like Prince Arthas don't you think?

Hmm, in any case, this is the something new I found. Blogskin thingy I meant.

Umm..

Senses all messed up. Drowsy as hell.

*floats around*

GOodnight.

Dead logs.

How deep do you sleep? Are you a light sleeper? Do you jump up at the slightest scratch of an ant's feelers against a grain of sand? Do you sit up in terror at the creak of a stair twenty flights down?

Or are you a deep sleeper? The voice of Mother screaming her lungs out seem nothing more than the buzzing of a fly? The alarm clock seems like sweet gentle music?

I've been a deep sleeper all my life. Once I enter into slumber, it's hard to get me out of it. Almost immediately I will start dreaming.

And I absolutely hate being woken 14-20 minutes into slumber. Just when the body is sinking towards absolute coma, you are roughly awoken. There have been several occasions I woke up not knowing where I was, what I was previously doing, and what the hell was going on. Heck, I might've even forgot my name for a second. But it's that instant of absolute confusion that I simply cannot stand.

I've also woken up in the middle of a dream. For example, I'd be reaching out for something in my dream, and then suddenly I'll feel my hand reaching out for something in reality, and I will wake up, feeling stupid, wondering why my hand is outstretched.

Another example, is crying in a dream. Sometimes, it gets so bad, I wake up only to find that my pillow is soaked with tears. Scary.

Most of the time though, I'm trapped in boundless slumber. It's scary because I won't hear anything until a certain time where I begin to wake up. And that's usually 11am.


I'm told I talk in my sleep. Meaningless mumbles, unintelligible utters. Of course, there are occasional gems like, *me with hands outstretched* "THE CONTRACT HAVEN'T SIGN YET?!?!?!"

Shit like that. Which actually makes me afraid to sleep with anyone but family. Can you imagine if I wake up the next morning to find everyone in gales of laughter and me wondering why the shit are they laughing?

I'd die of embarrassment.

Time, it is?

Is it time to change the template of my blog?

Tell me.

Your view on yourself:

Other people find you very interesting, but you are really hiding your true self. Your friends love you because you are a good listener. They'll probably still love you if you learn to be yourself with them.
The type of girlfriend/boyfriend you are looking for:

You are not looking merely for a girl/boyfriend - you are looking for your life partner. Perhaps you should be more open-minded about who you spend time with. The person you are looking for might hide their charm under their exterior.
Your readiness to commit to a relationship:

You are ready to commit as soon as you meet the right person. And you believe you will pretty much know as soon as you might that person.
The seriousness of your love:

You like to flirt and behave seductively. The opposite sex finds this very attractive, and that's why you'll always have admirers hanging off your arms. But how serious are you about choosing someone to be in a relationship with?
Your views on education

Education is less important than the real world out there, away from the classroom. Deep inside you want to start working, earning money and living on your own.
The right job for you:

You have plenty of dream jobs but have little chance of doing any of them if you don't focus on something in particular. You need to choose something and go for it to be happy and achieve success.
How do you view success:

You are confident that you will be successful in your chosen career and nothing will stop you from trying.
What are you most afraid of:

You are afraid of things that you cannot control. Sometimes you show your anger to cover up how you feel.
Who is your true self:

You like privacy very much because you enjoy spending time with your own thoughts. You like to disappear when you cannot find solutions to your own problems, but you would feel better if you learned to share your thoughts with a person you trust.

Chinese Fuckers

This is long overdue actually.

A couple of days ago, I was playing Warcraft 3 on Battle.net on an Asian server. And as luck would have it, I entered into a game with a couple of bigots. Not just bigots from anywhere, but bigots from good ol' America.

Which begs the very first question: What are bigots doing in a channel teeming with the very people they profess to hate and despise?

Possible answer: They're too stupid. Which is probably true.

Well anyway, what happened was, I was playing the role of the silent gamer when I read all their comments on the Chinese. Well, it wasn't too much, considering how limited a vocabulary they have. Mostly it was "Chinese Fuckers", or "the fucking chinese", or some other permutation.

Then that's when I decided to reveal the fact that they were indeed playing with a chinese.

Me: I'm chinese.

Bigot 1: Fuck.

Bigot 2: Hey chinese, wanna fucking cookie?

Bigot 3: Go learn some english chinese fucker.

Me: No thanks, the cookies that I eat don't fuck.

Me: I speak and write the English language. Can't say the same for you I think.

B 1 2 3: Fuck You. (or some other permutation of it.)

*at this point, it doesn't really matter who spoke anymore. it's just bigotry anyway*

B: Fucker. Look at our army.

Me: What about it?

B: We rule.

(You do? Wow, cos if you did, then why are thousands of you fuckers dying in Iraq?)

Fortunately for them, the game ended, so they didn't have to breathe the same gaming air as this chinese fucker I suppose.

I think some Americans need to open their eyes and start realising that they aren't the only ones inhabiting this world. Hello American Fuckers!! Wake Up!! There. Do you think that statement is fair to you? You American Fuckers. Don't want us to call you that, then don't call us Chinese Fuckers, because we do much more than Fuck. We earn your money, we make the world turn.

You? I think the term American Fuckers seems pretty much an accurate title.

You fuck other people, and make abortions an art.

You fuck up, and mess up other countries.

You're fucked, because I don't know how you're going to solve all your problems.

So yes. American Fuckers. Very apt, don't you think?